


The Gift

by auricolet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bloodplay, Domme, F/F, Femme Domme, Lady and pet, Lesbian Sex, Queen of the Fae, Submission, eager, fae, femme for femme, soft submission, the Fair Folk, wlw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:41:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auricolet/pseuds/auricolet
Summary: A village girl is offered up to the Fae queenCW: bloodplay (very mild)
Kudos: 47





	The Gift

Offered as a prize, perhaps to soothe the fears that came with Her reputation. Oh we’d heard many legends, many young things taken in the night and replaced with one of Her creatures. But that was before the Gifts she was given. I was not the young and innocent that many girls were, and perhaps that is why I was chosen. Not as “valuable” perhaps but pleasing to one rumored to be an immortal and Queen. That and the oddities I possessed. Something unique - it usually delighted the fae.  The forest was cool as the sun was beginning to set. I watched as the last of the torches flickering disappeared into the black thicket of trees, their shadows reaching high above my head as the sun disappeared like the torches. The shawl I’d brought with me, the only other possession aside from the clothing on my back. My feet were bare, shoes taken as I’d been pointed to the center of the ring of stones, to await Her arrival. 

As the stars began to wink overhead, and a cold settled across my bones I felt time distort almost, and I couldn’t keep straight how frequently the stars moved across the sky. What turn of the earth I could usually track. Eventually the normal sounds of the forest stopped, and the eerie silence was more disconcerting than the sighing birds and owl-cries. At first, a flash of golden eyes, and the first blood-cooling sensation was the desire to run from the apparent predator before me. 

_ She prowls more lordly than the Sun. _

I stood, and moved to turn to run, and it was but one step before I lost my balance, the hands and knees hitting the stones and earth with a sudden shooting pain. And she was there before me, and I was already prostrate before her, humbled by my own fear. The golden eyes remained, and her face, though smiling, looked no less like that of the hunter. She seemed to emanate a sort of dark light, I had no trouble discerning her features despite the darkness. As if she’d swallowed the moon and beamed from within. I could do naught but stare with awe. 

She placed a hand in my hair, stroking it like one would a dog, before tracing my jaw, bringing my face inclined more toward hers. 

_ Interesting. _

The thought played clearly across her face, her eyebrows quirked momentarily as the smile played with amusement. I was unsure if I was more in awe of her beauty or struck frozen like a fawn petrified before a wolf. The more I stared at her features the more unsettling they appeared - each curve of the face seemed sharper and the apparent curl of horns from beneath her straight hair glowing with the colors of the setting sun blurred in my vision. Eventually I let my eyes go downcast, unable to comprehend more of what I was seeing. My mouth watered, and I felt a creeping desire that felt foreign but aching from long being suppressed. 

The softness of her slender fingers pinched and I was brought to my knees, still kneeling as if paying penance before communion. My hair falling from its plaits, into soft dark curls past my shoulders, and her other hand traced along the edge of the hair and skin. The appraisal was gentle, but I had this sense of knowing that I could be broken with little effort from Her. Eventually her other hand came to my lips and she produced a sweet-smelling fruit. It was a gentle insistence. I knew why I had been sent, but even that would not have mattered, as I felt myself more drawn to Her scent and presence. I opened my lips and upon my tongue the strange flavor of fresh flowers and honey played into the back of my jaw as it was crushed against my palate. 

_ Accept not the feast of the fae - lest you be trapped forever in the land of the faeries.  _

* * *

The Lady’s court held no apparent heraldry. No servants in sight. None of the typical standard regalia of human houses, but it was ornate in it’s own exotic way, and far stranger than anything I had seen in my village. But it held an enchanting beauty, and I found my eyes wandering the room until they met Her again. And now she was dressed in thin robes, black and purple looking more regal than any of the Lords or Ladies I’d seen in procession - but exposed in a way that would have been read as incredibly unseemly.  For myself, I quickly realized I was even more bare. It was not cold, despite being stripped to the skin. The curves of Her body were veiled by the gauze-thin material of her robes. The sweetness of the fruit lingered and I felt the warmth in my cheeks trace down my spine, into the hips, pooling inside and then out. 

I needed very little encouragement, as I found myself desiring little else aside from being closer to her strange beauty and presence. 

“What is your name precious girl?” 

Her voice was soft but the edge of comfort in her control was still evident. And I had already eaten of her food. As I stood before her, she sat at the edge of a fine throne, her hand beckoning me approach. 

“Aeinn Ahmran… your Ladyship.” 

The formality of my address did bring another smile to her lips and she nodded her head down, the silent command apparent despite it’s subtlety and I knelt before her once more. The bruising on my knees now starting to become clear. 

“Such a pliant creature they have sent me.” 

Her voice cooed and that sensation I had been feeling deepened. I felt heady and found a stemmed glass in her hands, an offering of singing wine with effervescent delight now before me. And I took this more greedily than I had the offering of food. It was sharp on the palate but delightful and the sweet chittering sounds of the liquor against the glass was charming enough that I could not help but smile with delight. 

“You shall serve well, pretty girl.” 

* * *

_ A pretty canvas, a lovely doll. _

The pain was present, and despite the sting of the air hitting the now clawed skin was erotic in it’s own form, another level of exposure in submission to Her. In a daze I realized I was bleeding and feared it to offend. She laughed in amusement, as if reading my thoughts and my sudden stillness. 

“Oh dear girl, I can stomach the iron of yours…” and where the mark had been drawn, she supplied tender kisses, tasting the blood that pooled in small droplets along the lovely elven script. I found my hips unable to remain still and as she held a hand on my thigh she laughed gaily, tightening until her claws dug into the flesh and I could do little more than let out a soft, needy sigh. 

“...though you have another sweetness.” 

The sore broken skin forgotten, as I felt her reach between my legs and my eyes flew open, mouth forming a soft “O” as she explored, bringing me into a shaking mess, and she licked me from her fingertips. 

“Such sweetness…” and she brought my face to hers, lips meeting mine, as I tasted myself on her tongue. I could drink her and in my own need I pulled my own arms around her, forgetting myself in my desire, until I was reaching to keep kissing her and she danced just outside of reach, amusement on her features. 

“Sweet girl…” She sat exposing herself, and I found myself kissing her thighs until I could kiss her again, another pair of lips. My mind was completely lost in this as I knelt for her pleasure, my feet growing colder, numb to hold my place and continue offering my mouth. The taste sweeter yet than the fruits or wine until she grasped my hair and yanked my head away as her body shuddered. As I slowly got some sense of self, I saw a strange amount of surprise and even greater amusement. 

“...now I see why they sent you.” 


End file.
